Lazada Online
How Lazada Online Changed My Life (And Nearly Ended My Marriage)
Let me tell you about my toxic relationship with Lazada Online—an addiction that started innocently enough when my ancient refrigerator died during the hottest April in Manila’s recorded history. There I was, standing in my kitchen, watching ice cream melt into a puddle of broken dreams, when my officemate Jen casually mentioned: “Just buy one on Lazada. They’re having a sale.” Eight simple words that would forever change my spending habits, my marriage dynamics, and the available space in my condo.
My First Date with Lazada: A Filipino Love Story More Complicated Than Teleseryes
Before my fateful encounter with Lazada, I was the kind of Filipino who believed online shopping was for the rich, the tech-savvy, or people with credit cards that weren’t perpetually maxed out. My shopping routine consisted of braving SM Mall crowds on weekends, getting elbowed by aggressive titas during sales, and sweating through my clothes while waiting for jeepneys with shopping bags cutting off circulation to my fingers. Basically, shopping was a form of physical and emotional torture I endured because pants are unfortunately necessary for adult life.
My first Lazada experience played out like the classic Filipino romance—initial skepticism, followed by cautious exploration, then full-blown obsession that my friends and family began to find concerning. I downloaded the app while sitting in Friday night EDSA traffic that had me contemplating whether I could just live in my car permanently. The interface was so intuitive that even my technologically-challenged brain (I once tried to charge my phone by holding it next to the TV) could navigate it without calling my 12-year-old nephew for help.
As I scrolled through refrigerator options, I felt a strange sensation—shopping without someone’s grandmother ramming a shopping cart into my ankles. No sales assistant giving me judgy looks for checking cheaper models. Just me, my dwindling bank account, and endless possibilities. By the time I reached my destination (having moved exactly 1.7 kilometers in 45 minutes), I had not only purchased a refrigerator on sale but also somehow acquired matching dish towels, a rice cooker I absolutely didn’t need, and what the listing described as a “multi-function vegetable chopper” that would later prove to be neither multi-functional nor particularly good at chopping vegetables.
Five Reasons Why Lazada Has Ruined My Financial Future (But I Keep Coming Back)
Like any relationship that my mother would describe as “complicated,” my affair with Lazada Online has its ups and downs. Here’s why I can’t seem to break free from its digital clutches, despite my husband changing our WiFi password twice:
- The selection makes Divisoria look like a small-town sari-sari store: Lazada’s product range is so vast that I once logged in looking for a simple phone case and emerged three hours later having purchased scuba gear. I don’t dive. I don’t even swim particularly well. But at 67% off, how could I not prepare for the underwater adventures I might hypothetically want to have someday? Last Christmas, I managed to buy gifts for my entire extended family—including that cousin whose name I can never remember and my husband’s tito who still refers to me as “the other one”—without ever having to put on real pants or engage in small talk with cashiers.
- The app is easier to navigate than avoiding my landlady when rent is due: Unlike government websites that look like they were designed in 1997 and never updated, Lazada’s interface is so user-friendly that my mother—who still prints out her Facebook notifications—managed to order herself a complete gardening set with minimal assistance. The search function actually finds what you’re looking for instead of suggesting completely unrelated items, which is more than I can say for the helpful staff at certain department stores who once directed me to men’s underwear when I asked for a blender.
- Their payment options are more flexible than my workout schedule: Lazada accepts everything from credit cards to GCash to the ever-reliable Cash on Delivery (for those of us who’ve been burned by online purchases before—like the time I ordered what I thought was a designer bag and received what was clearly a pencil case with a suspiciously misspelled “GUKCI” logo). I’ve used all these options depending on my financial situation, which ranges from “just got paid” optimism to “two days before sweldo” desperation.
- The delivery speed would put Maria Clara’s chaperones to shame: In a country where “I’m on my way” could mean anything from “leaving now” to “haven’t showered yet,” Lazada’s delivery timeframes are shockingly reliable. I once ordered a phone charger at midnight during a typhoon signal #2, fully expecting it to arrive maybe the following week. It was at my door by 10 AM the next morning, delivered by a rider who looked drier than I did despite the continuing downpour. The tracking system is so detailed that I’ve spent embarrassing amounts of time watching the little delivery icon move across my screen like it’s a telenovela climax.
- The sales and discounts are more tempting than the last piece of lechon at a family reunion: Lazada’s regular promotions have triggered a Pavlovian response in me—I see that red notification badge, and my finger automatically clicks. The 9.9, 10.10, 11.11, and 12.12 sales have become more important dates in my calendar than some relatives’ birthdays. During last year’s 11.11 sale, I stayed up until midnight with multiple alarms set, three devices ready, and a spreadsheet of items I’d been stalking for months. My husband found me the next morning, asleep on the couch, laptop still open, having spent half our electricity bill money on skincare products and a karaoke microphone that promised to “make you sound like Sarah Geronimo” (it did not).
How Lazada Saved Me During The Pandemic (A Love Letter To My Delivery Riders)
When COVID-19 hit the Philippines and turned Metro Manila into a ghost town punctuated by the occasional stray cat and anxious security guard, Lazada went from convenient shopping option to actual lifeline. Suddenly, my addiction to online shopping seemed less like a character flaw and more like preparation for the apocalypse.
During the strictest lockdown, when stepping outside required more paperwork than a visa application and the constant fear of being sprayed with disinfectant by overzealous tanods, my Lazada app became my window to the outside world. I ordered essentials like groceries, vitamins, and face masks, but also “essentials” like fairy lights for my home office background, five different types of coffee beans when I bought an espresso machine, and an inflatable pool that was definitely not big enough for an adult but that didn’t stop me from trying.
The real heroes of this story are the delivery riders—those brave souls who navigated through checkpoints, confusing quarantine rules, and the occasional territorial street dog to bring packages to my doorstep. There was Kuya Michael, who always texted a polite “Good day po” before delivery; Ate Jenny, who somehow managed to fit a microwave through my narrow apartment door; and The Mysterious John (as I called him) who never showed his face but would leave packages precisely where I asked in my delivery notes.
One particularly memorable delivery came during a stormy August evening when I had ordered emergency chocolate supplies. The rider arrived drenched but had wrapped my package in three layers of plastic to keep it dry. When I tried to give him extra for his troubles, he refused and simply said, “Part of the service, ma’am.” I promptly went inside and cried into my perfectly dry chocolate bar, wondering if this level of dedication was available from any government office.
The Great Lazada Purchase Justification: From Browsing to Buying to Lying About Prices
If there’s an Olympic event for justifying unnecessary purchases, I deserve to carry the Philippine flag at the opening ceremony. My journey from browsing Lazada to convincing my husband that we absolutely needed a machine that makes egg rolls perfectly cylindrical involves several sophisticated stages:
- The Initial Browse: It always starts innocently—usually I’m looking for something legitimate like light bulbs or printer ink. But Lazada knows me better than my own mother. “Based on your browsing history, you might like this air fryer that can also somehow make yogurt.” And down the rabbit hole I go.
- The Research Phase: This is where I convince myself I’m being responsible. I read reviews, compare models, and even create a mental pros and cons list. “This model has 4.8 stars and over 2,000 reviews! The people cannot be wrong!” Never mind that I’m researching something I had no intention of buying 20 minutes ago.
- The Cart Abandonment Fake-Out: I add items to my cart, then close the app, pretending I’ve exercised self-control. This typically lasts between 30 minutes and 8 hours, depending on how many “Your cart misses you!” notifications Lazada sends. Their algorithm knows exactly when my willpower is weakest—usually around 11 PM when I’m tired and my financial judgment is as sound as a politician’s promise.
- The Sale Justification: “It’s 40% off, so I’m saving money by spending money!” This particular logic has led to me owning three different rice cookers, each with incrementally more buttons than the last. The final boss of this category is “If I buy this now, I’ll save future me from having to pay full price later.” Future me has yet to thank present me for this consideration.
- The Spousal Deception Strategy: This ranges from the simple “What? This old thing? I’ve had it for months!” to the elaborate “It was a gift from my office Secret Santa” (in July). My most creative excuse was telling my husband that the expensive blender was actually won in a raffle at work. This worked perfectly until he attended my office Christmas party and mentioned how lucky I was to win it, leaving my confused officemates to nod politely while shooting me questioning looks.
Lazada’s Impact on Philippine Society (As Observed From My Living Room)
Beyond my personal shopping addiction, Lazada has genuinely transformed how Filipinos shop, work, and even interact. In my extended family alone, I’ve witnessed several remarkable changes:
My Tita Baby, who once required assistance to send a text message, now runs her entire sari-sari store inventory through Lazada, comparing prices and ordering in bulk. She’s even expanded her product range based on what’s trending online. Last Christmas, she proudly informed everyone that her store was the first in the barangay to carry those weird Korean face masks that make you look like various animals.
My cousin Paolo turned his passion for fixing broken electronics into a small business by sourcing parts through Lazada and selling the refurbished items locally. What started as a side hustle during the pandemic has become his full-time job, employing two other people from our neighborhood. He recently moved out of his parents’ house into his own apartment—a milestone many Filipinos his age can only dream of.
Even my perpetually grumpy grandfather, who still refers to the internet as “that computer thing,” has been converted. After my grandmother passed away, we worried about him living alone and managing daily tasks. My sister set up his Lazada account with saved payment information and taught him to order his groceries. Now he calls me weekly to brag about deals he’s found, and his newest hobby is leaving extremely detailed product reviews. His latest one-star review for a defective electric fan included a 500-word essay that concluded with “Disappointed but not surprised, like when my son told me he was taking up arts instead of engineering.”
The Questions My Bank Account Asks About My Lazada Habits
Did you really need a third rice cooker when the first two work fine?
Listen, each rice cooker serves a distinct purpose in my culinary journey. The first one makes perfect white rice. The second has special settings for brown rice and congee. The third one—well, the third one was 62% off and came in a limited edition color that perfectly matches my kitchen backsplash. Plus, it plays “Lupang Hinirang” when the rice is done. If that’s not peak Filipino innovation, I don’t know what is. And yes, I realize I sound like someone justifying their choices to a therapist, but this is between me and my Lazada shopping cart, thank you very much.
How many payment methods do you have saved on your Lazada account?
This question feels personally attacking and I refuse to answer with a specific number. Let’s just say I have developed a sophisticated rotation system to prevent any single account from reflecting the true extent of my shopping habits. My salary goes to my BDO account, which funds my “reasonable” purchases. My side hustle money goes to GCash, which handles “justifiable splurges.” Then there’s my secret Unionbank account that my husband doesn’t know about for “emotional support purchases” after particularly difficult days. When all else fails, there’s always Cash on Delivery, which gives me those precious extra days before financial reality hits. I call this system “financial diversification.” My accountant friend calls it “concerning.”
Is Lazada available everywhere in the Philippines, even in that remote province your husband wants to retire to?
This question keeps me up at night, as my husband increasingly talks about selling our condo and moving to his hometown in Batanes “to escape the rat race.” I’ve been secretly testing Lazada’s delivery capabilities by sending random items to his relatives there. So far, results are mixed. A smartphone case arrived in just five days, but the stand mixer I ordered for his mother’s birthday encountered what the tracking info cryptically described as “delivery challenges” and arrived three weeks later, having apparently toured several other provinces first. My retirement plan now includes ensuring stable internet connection and perhaps befriending local delivery personnel through strategic tipping. Alternatively, I’ve been researching how to become a Lazada seller myself so I can justify staying connected to the platform as a “business necessity.”
How much have you spent on shipping fees because you couldn’t reach the free shipping minimum?
The mathematics of Lazada free shipping is more complex than any calculus I studied in college. You need to order ₱290 worth of items to qualify for free shipping, but the item you want is ₱250. So naturally, you add a ₱50 item you don’t need, saving ₱59 on shipping while spending ₱50 more than you planned. This particular logic has led to me owning fourteen different phone cables, a collection of refrigerator magnets from places I’ve never visited, and enough face masks to survive several more pandemics. My proudest/most shameful moment was adding a single ballpoint pen to my cart to push my total from ₱289 to ₱293. The fact that I remember these exact figures probably says something about my priorities in life.
Will you ever uninstall the Lazada app from your phone as you’ve threatened to do after each shopping binge?
I have deleted the Lazada app exactly seventeen times. The longest I’ve gone without reinstalling it was four days, during a spiritual retreat where I also gave up coffee and speaking negatively about my mother-in-law. All three resolutions dissolved approximately 20 minutes after returning to civilization. At this point, the Lazada app is less a shopping platform and more a comfort blanket—a digital space where everything is organized, searchable, and available with just a few taps. Unlike my actual house, where I still can’t find the measuring cups I bought three months ago (probably from Lazada). My phone feels naked without it, like forgetting to wear earrings or leaving the house without emergency tissue paper in your bag.
My Future With Lazada: A Complicated Relationship Status
As I sit here surrounded by delivery boxes I haven’t yet hidden from my husband (he’s working late—I have approximately two hours to make these disappear), I reflect on my complicated relationship with Lazada. Like many great Filipino love stories, it’s filled with drama, financial questionable decisions, and packages that sometimes get lost in Parañaque for inexplicable reasons.
Will I ever break free from Lazada’s grip on my wallet and leisure time? Probably not. The convenience, selection, and rush of finding that perfect deal have become too deeply integrated into my lifestyle. Plus, I’ve developed genuine relationships with my regular delivery riders—Kuya Mark knows the gate code and where to hide packages from the rain, information I haven’t even shared with some family members.
For better or worse, Lazada has changed how I shop, how I budget (or attempt to), and even how I plan my day (“I can’t go to lunch with you on Wednesday because my package is arriving between 1-3 PM”). It’s given small businesses like my high school classmate’s homemade soap company a platform to reach customers nationwide. It’s provided income for thousands of Filipinos during economic downturns. And yes, it’s given me access to products I’d never find in local malls, like the specialized guitar picks my nephew needed for his music lessons or the Japanese skincare brand that finally cleared up my pandemic-induced stress acne.
So here’s to you, Lazada—my enabler, my financial downfall, my solution to avoiding crowded malls during sale season. May your servers never crash during major sales, may your delivery riders always find my obscure address, and may my husband never discover exactly how many packages arrive when he’s not home.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just got a notification that the air purifier I’ve been watching is now 43% off, and I need to decide if we need a third one before the sale ends in 2 hours, 37 minutes, and 14 seconds… but who’s counting?
